


When it all comes tumbling down...but it hurts so God damn much you no longer care

by New_beginnings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And that's not technically emotionally speaking, But mainly just hurt Sam, Castiel doesn't get how to act human, Castiel is like a brother to Sam, Good Brother Dean, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I've been told it's too dark but I don't believe that for a second, Kind of AU, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oh and Lucifer was freed from his cage, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean, Protective Lucifer, Sam Winchester's Visions, You Have Been Warned, crappy first time author, etc - Freeform, just thought I'd classify that, kind Lucifer, set somewhere after series 9, the how is not important, there's probably more but I can't remember them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_beginnings/pseuds/New_beginnings
Summary: Dean is surprised when It seems like Sam is getting visions again, and tries hard to work a case whilst figuring out what is happening to his little brother....but no one could have predicted just how badly Sam would get hurt, nor how much comfort his family could provide both brothers with...except Lucifer, who seems to know everything.





	1. The old man

**Author's Note:**

> This is non beta'd and Supernatural and it's characters do NOT belong to me
> 
> IMPORTANT: This story covers quite a few mental health 'problems' so I just thought I'd say that I'm writing some of these from personal experience and some from personal research. And as all mental health 'problems' are different from person to person please understand that I am not stereotyping them and please don't think I'm 'getting it wrong' and be annoyed or something. I think the topic of mental health is important to write about but I will not write about anything I do not understand and have inaccurate knowledge about. I don't just randomly click on any phoney website to get my information.
> 
> I'm 15 by the way, so I am not perfect. There will be mistakes.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome, but just as a warning: I'm crap at punctuation. And not too good at spelling either. Though I'm not awful.
> 
> Now enjoy (hopefully) and please leave a comment (possibly)

Chapter 1

The man's legs and arms were tied securely to the warn down chair in the middle of the shack, the restraints the only thing holding him up. He drifted, wanting nothing more than to sleep, but the sting of pain kept him awake; though barely. His white hair glistened with sweat and blood, his face pale and his lips drawn tight with discomfort. His previously vibrant and joyous green eyes had long since dulled, and any hope he once had, had fled with the first whip upon his back. He knew he wasn't getting out of this one. Not now, not ever; he would die.

Another blow forced him out of his stupor and he made a slight noise of discomfort, his voice too torn up to do much else.

"Now, Mr Brooks, I suggest we get down to business..." Joseph Brooks' tormentor cooed. "You are old and used; I would rather not waste much more of your time. So tell me: do you want to go home and live the rest of your short, pitiful life...or do you want to die right here once you reach your expiry date?" He drew a pistol from his wasteband, which had previously been concealed by his long coat, which finished just above his ankles. Pointing it at Joseph he tapped his leg impatiently with his free hand, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Aiden, please...you don't have to do this. You're only twenty four, you have so much to live for! Let me go and return to your family...I swear I won't press charges. I just...I can't tell you what you want to hear. Please!" 

"Wrong answer, grandad." Joseph sighed, guessing as much, and bowed his head in defeat.

"Fine! Shoot me...just know that I'm sorry." The sound of a bullet piercing through Mr Brooks skull echoed through the empty room, and the old man's body slumped limply in the chair: he was dead.


	2. A problem arises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wakes up from another vision, which, a good few years ago, wouldn't be a problem. But now? Now the brothers are left with a lot of questions and no answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of my pre written chapters.
> 
> P.s. They are not in the bunker because they are trying to take a break in between cases. Almost like a vacation. So they are travelling around to go look at things like the Grand Canyon and enjoy themselves for once after all the shit that's happened recently. So they are in a motel room near the place they went to last to get some rest before going to see something else. If that makes sense. If not don't worry about it.

Chapter 2

Sam shot up from the shabby bed in the latest run down motel room, covered in sweat and panting profusely. He felt confused and dizzy, but before he could get a grip on his sanity once more he felt something unpleasant build up from the back of his throat and he proceeded to bolt to the bathroom and empty what little he had left in his stomach from the night before.

Dean awoke to the sound of his brother retching into the sink next door and groaned, trying to fight off the urge to go back to bed, and instead got up to get them a coffee, deciding the caffeine would help kick-start their morning.

"I'm just gunna get us a coffee. Be back soon." Sam nodded hurriedly, telling his brother it was okay to leave him: he would be fine.

Dean looked back at his brother hesitantly, not wanting to leave him like that, but Sam just threw the bar of soap at him, and he took it as his queue to leave.

(Line break, or whatever you want to call it) (liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine breeeeeeeeeeeeak) 

Ten minutes later Dean strode back into their motel room, depositing two cups of coffee on the only desktop in the room with a light smile on his face. Sam was perched on the edge of his bed, looking much better then when Dean had first woken up.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean questioned, casting judgemental eyes up and down his brother's wiry form. "If I didn't know better I would've thought you had a hangover." Sam snorted.

"I'm fine now. You shouldn't worry so much; it's bad for your blood pressure." Sam jibed, before his face suddenly paled and he straightened, turning serious. "Dean I...I had another vision."

"You what?!" Dean cried, his voice a mix of anger and concern. "I thought we were done with all this crap! You said...no, you PROMISED me you didn't have them anymore!"

"Dean I don't! Well I haven't since that night. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Yeah, 'cause you've never done that before, have you?" Came the sarcastic reply.

"Look. This isn't about that...can we stop fighting? Please! I'm not lying about this. This is the first vision I've had in a very long while and it kind of...scared me? So I'm not up to arguing with you right now." 

All the anger Dean had building up inside him suddenly evaporated the second he heard his little brother admit to being scared. He rarely talked about his emotions with Dean anymore, so whenever he did Dean made sure he was there to listen to him. To make it better; not fight. That would only make it worse.

"Ok. I believe you...we'll work out the how and why later. Just tell me what it was about. And don't leave out any gory details." Dean winked at his brother, watching him relax some before passing him his cup of coffee and making a grab for his own.

Sam, feeling his brother's eyes bore into him, waiting for an explanation, felt compelled to tell him everything he had seen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Feel free to ask any questions (if you don't understand something that happened in the story for example) in the comment section below. I'll answer them as quickly as possible.


	3. It's all about trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An immediate follow on from the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to upload two days ago, but I couldn't find the time. But hopefully the fact that it's a bit longer than the others will make up for that
> 
> I'm not sure if I've left anything else out, but I thought I'd mention Duffy's is made up and probably sounds ridiculous.

Chapter 3

"So let me get this straight..." Dean began, looking incredulously up at Sam with his eyebrows raised. "You saw this man, called Mr Brooks or something, tied up in the middle of a cabin somewhere getting tortured by a guy called Aiden. And all you know about him is what he looks like and the fact that he's twenty four?"

"Uh...yeah...and you're saying?" Sam replied, getting decidedly more nervous as his brother's scrutinising gaze pinned him to the bed. His legs shook and he fiddled with his fingers anxiously.

"I'm saying that this is ridiculous! We know little to nothing about what's happening, or if it's anything to do with us, so how are we supposed to take it on as a case? It's not like we have any valuable information to help us search for leads, and we can't exactly ask Bobby wether he knows anything! So how're we supposed to fix this Sammy?"

"But I had a vision about it, so it's obviously important!"

"I know...look. If we had more information, maybe even an address, I would call the police and alert them about what's going on. If they don't know already that is."

"-But!" Sam interrupted, raising a hand to silence his brother.

"No Sam! Listen to me! This is nothing to do with us; by the sounds of Aiden, he's just a human, nothing more. And what have I always told you?" 

"To leave them to the police." Sam replied, begrudgingly.

"Exactly! So I don't want you getting guilty about anything we can't fix. This is not your fault. I don't know why you're having these visions again, but I know that I'm gunna help you figure this out, ok? We'll do this together, you just gotta trust me...do you trust me Sam?"

Sam paused, thinking it over. Dean was always trustworthy as a kid, and never broke any of his promises, but over the last decade or so the two brothers struggled with being both responsible and reliable. Dean had lied to him more times then either brother cared to admit, and developed a habit to hold dangerous grudges. Not that Sam could blame him. Like Dean had implied earlier: Sam's promises meant nothing anymore. Not after that whole fiasco with Ruby. It didn't matter that it had all started with him trying to help. To be GOOD! Dean, all the people he could never save, they had deserved much more than him. He tried to help and all it did was get people killed...but yet Dean still trusted him on this. He still held on to the belief that there was something about his brother worth saving; he always had, no matter how many times they fought. And Dean wanted to help Sam get through this, he wanted to be the big brother even after all this time. So if Dean asked Sam to trust him...

"Yes. I trust you. Of course I do!" Sam replied, quick to try and break the awkward silence just starting to fill the room.

Dean was frowning, but the moment he heard Sam's claims his eyes lit up and a smile graced his rough features. 

"Good. I-" Dean started, before freezing in place as Sam hunched over in pain, clutching at his head. "Sammy?"

"...I'm, I'm fine. Another. Vision. God. Dammit!" Sam forced out after a moment. Gritting his teeth against the nausea, though it was nowhere near as bad as before. 

After about a minute it passed, and Sam slumped against the wall in relief, wiping his brow of sweat and trying to draw in deep, even breaths.(Line break)

After Sam had calmed down, Dean rubbing comforting circles on his back, he found the strength to talk; answering the silent question that seemed to make the very air around them heavy.

"I saw something. On the floor in the corner of the shack, covered in smeared blood. Joseph, he...he carved it there. I saw him. I don't know how or why, but he knew that I was there, and he left me a message. I-"

"-Who's Joseph...the old man?" Dean asked before Sam had the chance to say anything else. Dean could sense Sam needed the distraction to help calm him before carrying on: The tell tale signs of an oncoming panic attack clear upon his brother's face.

It worked for the moment, as Sam took a minute to digest what Dean had just said, and his mind left overdrive. 

"...oh, uh., yeah. Joseph Brooks...That's his name." Sam muttered. "I saw an address: Duffy's, Larimer Square, Denver, Colorado. Duffy's is apparently the name of a bar. I don't know how but it's connected to whatever's going on...we should check it out."

"But Sam! I already told you it's nothing to do with us. Aiden's human."

"...Maybe. But there is something Supernatural going on. So we should check it out. It's kind of in our job description." Sam chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little but still feeling slightly shaky and weak with panic. He had no idea how Joseph knew to leave him a message, or why he was suddenly getting visions again. As for the ropes...Sam shuddered.

"Well, what is it? Apart from you getting visions about it, what's going on here that has anything to do with us." Dean asked, a hint of curiosity sparking in his voice. 

"Remember I said he was tied up?" His voice was hesitant, unsure. He knew he could trust his brother with the information, but he was still worried Dean would find a way to blame the visions on Sam, so he didn't want to talk about them. He cursed his paranoia under his breath, before prompting Dean to answer him. "Well?" 

"Yeah. I remember. What did you see?"

"Aiden. He was chanting with the ropes in his hands and they were glowing Dean! And there were symbols on the ceiling I didn't notice before. I recognised the Pentagrams, but nothing else. And he said something about a sacrifice. I couldn't really here."

"Ok then. Fine." He sighed. " I don't really want to do this, but We'll take a look at it. Alright? Next stop: Duffy's."

"Thank you so much!" Sam cried, all previous signs of tension and nerves sliding off him as he let himself get absorbed in the thought of another case/hunt/whatever the hell this was, just like Dean had done so many times in the past.

"Don't worry about it." He replied, despite the sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but shake the feeling that something would go wrong, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. "I just can't help thinking we'll be stuck in the deep end, this time." And I won't be able to keep you safe. To shelter you. To be the protector you've always deserved. And I've never been that for you Sammy. Never. So I don't want to do wrong by you this time; not now, after everything that's happened between us. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do. SHUT UP! He bellowed at the voice in his head. SHUT UP AND PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. Taking a deep breathe, he continued. "Go get ready Sam, we're leaving as soon as possible. And take some painkillers before we go: you're pale and I know how hard the headaches can get for you after a vision. And-"

"I'm fine Dean, you don't have have to worry about me." Sam said, quick to shift his brother's concern onto other matters; after all, he wasn't worth the trouble.

"Bollocks! Just...just don't lie to me Sam." His brother replied.

"Fine. Just don't worry as much."

"Whatever." Dean muttered. He wanted to say more, but he also didn't want to get all touchy feely with Sam right now: it would just overwhelm his brother. There would be time for that later. When Sam was ready. "As I was saying, get ready, take some pills, and I'll call Cas and come and join you in Baby." Dean couldn't wait to take his car out for some fresh air, blast some tunes and get back on the road. 

"No." Sam answered simply.

"...what?" Dean questioned, confused at Sam's change in attitude.

"I'm not letting you call Cas. He's done more than enough already, and deserves a break from all this shit. Just because we've ended ours to go on a case because of me, doesn't mean he has to. Besides, he's human now, and I don't want to risk his health more often than absolutely necessary."

"I get that." Dean said, because he really did. Cas was an important part of their lives, and they both hated to see him get hurt. But he couldn't shift the gut wrenching fear that had settled in his stomach. The more help they had, the safer Dean would feel. He just felt that this was something 'absolutely necessary' as Sam put it, and therefore he WOULD call Cas. Sam may feel guilty afterwards for roping their friend into this, but it was better than something happening to Sam and having to tell Cas about it afterwards: He was not the only one protective of his brother...he knew the only way he would get the time to phone his friend was if Sam was convinced Dean wouldn't call. He just hoped his brother could forgive him..."So just this once we'll leave him out of the equation. Ok?"

"Thanks. I just can't deal with the possibility of him being in danger right now...he's like a brother to me. This way I can keep at least one member of my family out of the battlefield...for now." Sam said, smiling gratefully at Dean. 

It burned, knowing his brother was depending on him, but also knowing he was going to let him down. But he had no other choice. "You reek Sammy! Go grab a shower before we go." 

"Fine!" Sam grumbled. "...but you swear, right? You swear you won't drag anyone else into this?"

"I promise, little brother." He reassured him, his jaw tight. Sam didn't seem to notice and gathered a fresh set of clothes from his bed.

"Jerk!" 

"Bitch." Dean smiled, watching his brother disappear to the bathroom with a heavy heart.

(Line break)

Dean waited until he could hear the powerful spray of the shower blast from behind the door, before pulling out his mobile and dialling his friend's number. He knew, from experience, that his brother normally took about five minutes to shower, and that was all that he needed. He could quite easily make the call in that time.

After about a minute the phone went to voicemail, and Dean cursed silently, annoyed Cas hadn't picked up but hoping he was fine nonetheless. 

"...ugh...Hello. I am Castiel, and I am named after an Angel Of The Lord." Came the gruff voice of his friend. Dean chuckled, remember helping Cas set up an automated message for his mobile if no one could reach him. He had told him about the importance of security, (in case he needed to give his phone number to a civilian during a case, or if one of the brothers phones got in the wrong hands and someone searched through their contacts.) But Dean wasn't quite sure he had understood; apparently, covering up his identity meant informing people he was named after himself on a voicemail service. "The grumpy one tells me this is called 'leaving a message' which is an apparent necessity in social life. So I am 'leaving a message': if it is important I will contact you back...but grumps said only if you leave me a message...back...like as well as me leaving a message...goodbye and do NOT die before I contact you, or what was the point of you leaving a message?" There was a pause. "Unless I was supposed to stop you dying and then I apologise and wish you well in the after life..." another pause. "How do you turn it off...I'm trying...no, get off!" Before a long beep sounded, indicating the pre recorded message had finally finished, and Dean could leave his own.

"Hi Cas, it's Dean. I haven't got long left before Sam gets out the shower, so I'm gunna have to be quick." Dean then proceeded to tell him where they were going, why they were going there and why Sam didn't want Cas to come, what aliases they were going to use, and where he was most likely to find them, before proceeding to end the call with: " please hurry! I've got a bad feeling about this...very bad indeed."

(Line break) 

Sam finished the shower just as Dean put his phone away, grabbed his coat, pulling it on, and removed they key to his baby from his inside pocket.

"I'll be waiting in the car." Dean informed him, before going outside to put his Impala's engine on, and slip a Led Zeppelin cassette tape into the stereo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please tell me if you liked it down below by leaving a Kudos or comment. 
> 
> Although I have a basic outline for the story, I haven't decided on the finer details yet, so if you like you can make a request for something you want to see during this story in the comments below. I'll try and write them into the story to make it a more enjoyable read, but no promises.
> 
> My friend requested something, so I just came up with the idea. You don't have to, obviously.


	4. Pain and comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a panic attack and Lucifer comforts him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is okay.
> 
> In this chapter it goes into a little bit more depth about Sam's anxiety and briefly mentions traits of PTSD. Sam also has a panic attack. If this sounds triggering to you then please don't read it. 
> 
> Also, I know Lucifer is acting kind of OOC but this is slightly AU anyway (look at the tags) and his and Sam's relationship is already established. Finding out about how that happens is a whole knew story, so please don't be weirded out about how their relationship is or anything.
> 
> And I created my own version of Lucifer, because why the fuck not. This is his 'true form' which means it's how he looks without his vessel.
> 
> Finally, feel free to ask any questions you my have down below, and I apologise for any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

Chapter 4

It was about a quarter of the way through the journey to Larimer square, three hours to be exact, when Sam finally snapped, but Dean was surprised he had even lasted that long. It probably had something to do with the adrenaline pumping through his brother's veins, or Sam's sheer will power that nearly always ended in pain, or maybe both. Dean sighed, trying desperately to focus on the road instead of his frantic brother; not wanting to have to deal with all the pain in the one person's eyes he had always sworn to protect, but failed miserably. He would do anything to avoid the crushing guilt, and the reminder that Sam wouldn't have turned out like this if he had been just a little braver, a little stronger, just a little longer. And the worst part was, was that Sam blamed himself. Yes, he had made mistakes, but they hadn't all been his fault: He'd been pushed into this by a mixture of fate, (dare he say it) deception, and circumstance. He had fallen so far, broken so much at such a young age, it was a wonder he had held on for so long. So Dean didn't blame his brother. Not completely.

Whilst Dean battled with his emotions, Sam was barely hanging on by a thread. This was all TOO MUCH for him, too soon, and it was TEARING away at the walls he had put up for so long: a barricade against his inner TURMOIL. His legs were TREMBLING violently (up down, up down) as he was hunched over himself as tight as he could, clenching his hands and his eyes shut as he attempted to SEEK RELEASE from everything: the CONFUSION of their situation, the BRIGHT and obviously FAKE reality surrounding him; filling the very air, the HEAT that suddenly PRESSED IN on him from nowhere; BEGGING TO BE let IN and SETTLE DEEP in his STOMACH, the NAUSEA that came with the heat in FLASHES of DEEP-ROOTED AGONY, the GUT WRENCHING FEELING of being WRONG and IMPURE, the BUZZING IN HIS EARS, the RAGING WIND, the SCREAMS OF RAGE AND TERROR FROM EVERYONE HE'D EVER HURT and SO MUCH MORE. It was DEAFENING, yet UNBEARABLY QUITE and FAR TOO CALM for Sam to KEEP A HOLD of HIS SANITY. He couldn't hold on anymore. It felt as if everything inside him was FIGHTING to BE FREE, to DIE, and he hadn't even realised his breathe had become erratic until just now, and OH GOD I CAN'T BREATHE, CAN'T, CAN'T, OH GOD DON'T MAKE ME BREATHE! Suddenly, he could think of nothing else apart from the feeling of SUFFOCATION, of the PAIN that every breathe cost, and then, almost as soon as it had started, it was once again replaced with an onslaught of EMOTION. It kept switching between the two over and over again, until the only way he could think to get rid of this TORTURE was to SCREAM. It helped drown everything else out and give him back some focus; purpose. All he needed to do was scream. It was the only thing he knew how to do anymore. 

Time passed quickly after that. Or maybe it didn't: maybe his mind just became too foggy to remember petty details such as the passing of time...  
And the next thing he knew two fingers was pressed tight into the pulse point on his wrist, and a warm, calloused hand was holding his head upright. His eyes travelled to his brother's, and a sob of relief broke from his scratchy throat.

"That's right Sammy. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." Dean's own eyes were watery, and filled with worry, and Sam smiled despite himself: his brother still cared about him, and that made him...happy. "You feel this?" Dean muttered into his ear, giving Sam's pulse point another gentle, but firm, press. "This is proof that you're with me. And with me is safe. I promise. Your heart is still beating. Not only are you alive, but your soul is securely tied to your body, and I'm not gunna be so stupid as to let that change again...you here me?" Sam sighed, his worry further dissipating and the rest of his emotions being pushed down behind his wall once more. Sam wasn't fine: he was never going to be fine. But this had helped him come to terms with his feelings a bit more. To heal, he needed to first learn to deal with his problems. 

He let his head fall to the side, away from Dean's palm, and a sense of numbness settle over him like a blanket. Now everything was over he felt weak. Shaky. Taking the first proper look at his surroundings for almost forty five minutes, he realised they had stopped off by the side of the road, and he was lying on the pavement next to Dean by the Impala...Huh. His brother must have moved him or something. He should really tell Dean to get back in the car so they could carry on their journey, but Sam couldn't bring himself to care right now. Sighing again, he closed his eyes, and, telling himself it didn't matter now he had no fucks to give (and attempting to ignore the slither of guilt trying to make itself known) he let himself fall into blissful unconsciousness. Dean could deal with this. His brother had his back.

(Line break)

The minute Sam fell asleep Dean carefully manoeuvred his brother to his spot in the car, resting his head against the window and securely buckling his seatbelt before going back behind the wheel. After that he couldn't bare to look at Sam again for the next half hour; he was beyond angry with him, but refrained from lashing out, knowing he would regret it later. Dean desperately needed something to take his mind off his fear of loosing Sam, and the overwhelming guilt that he was the one who made his brother beg to die during his panic attack. Sam never remembered what happened afterwards, but Dean did, and there was only a certain amount of self-hatred Dean could put up with before he broke down and yelled at him: using anger to mask the unmanly emotions the oldest Winchester felt for his brother.

It had always been that way: the emptiness he felt whenever he thought of his Mum caused him to take everything out on the demon's they hunted; using anger to fuel his attacks and be the best soldier he could be (even though his violence sometimes went a little too far). The sorrow Dean felt after his dad's death ended with him lashing out at everyone; blaming them, and becoming angry; driving him to drink whenever he could. The pain and regret that he had not been worthy enough of his brother's trust, and the self worth issues he had developed after Sam chose Ruby over him (a demon for God's sake. A demon over his own fucking BROTHER!) evolving into anger at Sam long after the issue had been resolved, and his brother needed someone to be strong for him. There were many more occasions as well, but Dean didn't want the reminder right now.

He decided this was a step too far this time though: fuck him if he would allow Sammy to get away with wishing himself dead, especially after all he had done to keep him alive and kicking. No. They were going to have a talk when Sam woke up and they had both calmed down some. He would find a way to help his brother if it was the last thing he did...

(Line break)

Sam opened his eyes as a feeling of great cold washed over him In waves. It wasn't an uncomfortable cold though; in fact, Sam welcomed it, as it provided him with comfort and a sense of belonging. It was as familiar to him as his brother's warm hold, or Castiel's searing grace...

He would recognise this icy touch anywhere: it was Lucifer; his Angel. The sole person who's love rivalled the one he held for his brother. The only person he had let into his heart after Jess had died. 

He carefully stood up from where he was lying in the meadow, a bed of grass protecting his body from the harsh ground underneath, and looked around for his boyfriend. He always stuck close in his dreams. It didn't take long to find him, and he greedily drank in every detail of the man before him: his right eye was a soft chestnut, the left a warm hazelnut, his glossy black hair fell down to his chin in messy strands, and his bangs almost covered his unique eyes from view (giving him an innocent yet cheeky look) his skin was pale (but in a beautifully natural, rather than sickly way) and his lips were drawn into an endearing smirk, his platinum wings spread wide with excitement. Sam struggled not to melt at the sight of Lucifer's true form. 

"Luci." Sam breathed, happy to see him but not at all surprised.

"Samantha." Lucifer echoed, winking playfully at his boyfriend. "It's so good to see you again, and so soon. But I know my handsome looks aren't the only thing you came back for. You said yourself that ogling me all day wasn't any fun." Lucifer pouted at the last bit.

"Yeah, you've got enough ego as it is..." 

"Hey! No fair." 

"But I'm fine thanks...just another panic attack is all. I don't like how they exhaust me, but there's nothing I can do about that at the moment."

"You can snuggle with me princess? We both know you're just an overgrown puppy. Not that I'm complaining: that height of yours sure comes with some perks." Sam blushed, ducking his head.

"I'm not a princess." Sam complained.

"Sure. Because Samantha's a very masculine name." Lucifer's smirk had grown wider. More teasing.

"It's Sa...It's Samuel" Sam muttered, despising the way his full name fell from his lips.

"Ha! I made you say it! I did what lesser men could not...I finally broke Sam Winchester." His boyfriend did a little victory dance around him, before Sam finally dragged him down for a 'snuggle'. "I told you I'd find a way!" Lucifer got the desired result, and soon they were both in hysterics, Sam's heart warming at the perfection of his boyfriend. Yet again he had cheered Sam up when he felt down, and was starting to forget how to smile. Words couldn't express how lucky he was to have the Devil. Sure; their relationship had been rocky at first, but it sure as hell paid off later down the line.

"You're weird." Sam mumbled from where he had his face pressed into the crook of Luci's neck. 

"But you still love me." He replied, allowing Sam to stroke his wings gently, which were wrapped securely around the lithe young man. Sam looked up from where he was nuzzling further into his boyfriend in a search for more of the appeasing cold that came with Lucifer's presence.

"So, so much." Chuckling, the devil patted Sam's head, and that's how they stayed for the next two hours in dream time, content with the silence that followed. All they wanted, for now, was each other.

(Line break)

"Sam?" 

"...Yeah?" 

"As nice as it is to have you pressed up against me like this, we really should talk." Sam huffed, lifting his head to look into Lucifer's eyes as his boyfriend helped to pull him to his feet.

"Can we cuddle later then?" Sam whined, wielding his puppy dog eyes with perfect accuracy. 

"Of course my sweetheart." Lucifer laughed, delighted. "Anything you want." 

"What is it with all the nicknames?" Sam was confused, and almost freaked out at the Devil's behaviour. Why would-

"You don't have to be scared. I'm perfectly well: I have to make it absolutely clear who you belong to, hence the nicknames. And besides...I just like watching you squirm." He flashed a predatory grin at the human before him.

"Oh my God...You were reading my mind again weren't you?!" 

"Sorry." Lucifer replied, not sounding the least bit apologetic. 

"Maybe you should stop with the names though." By rights you should want to watch me burn, not kiss me silly. It's a bit disconcerting. Sam thought to himself.

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt." 

"God, you're insufferable!" He groaned. 

"God has nothing to do with this." His boyfriend winked at him. 

"I don't know how I put up with you! I know I love you, but I'm surprised I've managed to refrain from punching you in the face by now! You drive me nuts!"

"Sorry." Luci placed a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead. "Was that a yes to talking?"

"Yeah...what is it?"

"...It's Dean." Sam stiffened. "I'm coming home soon, and I can't wait to show you the ropes! But brother dearest will probably throw a hissy fit if he sees you using your powers with me if he doesn't already know about them...are you sure you don't want him to know?"

"Yes! It was bad enough when he learnt about me and Ruby...I don't want to even begin to think about how much he'll hate me if he realises I have other psychic abilities too." He replied, slightly panicked.

"Shhh. It's alright." Lucifer reassured him, reaching out to Sam with his grace to try and comfort him. It worked. "I'm trying to help you control your powers so they don't get out of hand. I'm sure big brother will understand." 

"...I'm not ready for him to know."

"You can't hide this from him forever. When I finally get out of hell to come and train you he WILL find out. I wish you'd stop running from this. From who you are...it'll only hurt you in the end." Sam sighed. Deep down, he knew it was true. (And his boyfriend NEVER lied to him) but he wasn't ready to face the facts yet.

"Please Luci! Please wipe my memory again so Dean can't find out! I need this to be private...just between you and me whenever I'm dreaming...I just want to forget until I see you again! Oh God! I'll do anything. Anything!" Sam begged, clutching his hands together like he was praying. "I'm too weak to tell Dean on my own! I can't do this...I can't face his rejection. I'm so weak!"

Lucifer smiled sadly at the sight of his boyfriend literally BEGGING him to violate his memory, his heart clenching in his chest with grief as a few tears splashed from his eyes...

The last thing Sam was aware of before he woke up was the featherlight touch of fingers on his forehead, and a tingly sensation creeping down his spine as five simple, yet powerful words rang through his ears: "You were never weak Sam." 

(Line break) 

Sam awoke with a smile on his face. He couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about, but he distantly recalled seeing a meadow and feeling safe; like he had been wrapped up in a blanket. Whatever it had been about it must have been very good to keep the nightmares at bay, and for that he was grateful. 

"...You awake Sammy?" His brother questioned halfheartedly. 

"Yeah. You okay." 

"Mhmm...just tired. It's been a long drive, but we're finally here. And I'm hungry. I stopped off at the last place but they'd ran out of pie so I decided to wait until you woke up. It's not fair, especially since you never eat any of it, but the good food always seems to gravitate towards you."

Sam chuckled. "Sure. I'll find you some pie."

"Good; there's a store 'round the corner."

Sam got out the car, shaking his head, and headed in the direction of the store. Food seemed like a good idea right about now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 
> 
> P.s. Sam is asking Lucifer to wipe his memory of his psychic powers. It's complicated but will be explained later on.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one and two are pre written. 
> 
> I'll try and upload as quick as possible, but I am in school so I have homework and revision to do, which unfortunately are more important than this story. Also, sometimes I might need a break to collect my thoughts (if that makes sense). And I'm also going skiing in America in the February half term so I can not upload chapters then either. Hope it doesn't sound like I'm making excuses.
> 
> Also, I am more likely to finish the story if I know people are actually reading it. Or what's the point? So please Kudos or write a comment if you like the story to tell me I should carry on.


End file.
